


Window to the World (The World We're Kings of)

by parttimehuman



Series: Rarepair Galore [31]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, First Kiss, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Holding Hands, M/M, mildly sad feelings but they all go away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 09:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25847440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parttimehuman/pseuds/parttimehuman
Summary: Just thinking about it for a minute is enough to make the little hairs on Garrett’s arms stand up. One year. They’ve gone for one year without talking although they’ve had countless opportunities at school. Besides that Garrett could have taken his bike out to ride down that last road out of town. Or walked. He could have called. Or texted. Or done anything at all to let Sean know his summer job wasn’t just a summer job.And that Garrett misses him like crazy.
Relationships: Garrett/Sean Walcott
Series: Rarepair Galore [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1133369
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Window to the World (The World We're Kings of)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snaeken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snaeken/gifts).



> Almost in time! Happy birthday! 🧡

He’s awake. Again. California in August is not the right place or the right time to sleep through the night. Using only the duvet cover as a blanket and resting right below the open window, it’s still only a matter of time until Garrett burns up and wants to rip his disgustingly sticky skin off. 

He’s tried directing the fan he owns at his body, but the airstream and the noise bother him too much. Wetting his hair with cold water before lying down doesn’t work either since it dries faster than Garrett can fall asleep. Garrett’s best friend Liam has provided him with countless ideas - sleeping naked and without covers, ice-baths before bed time, camping in the backyard - but Liam manages to sleep at any time and under any circumstances, and he simply doesn’t understand that Garrett can’t trade his comfort for a little cooler air. 

For a long time, Garrett tosses and turns, kicking pillows and his duvet cover out of the bed only to retrieve them a couple of minutes later, spreading his arms and legs in the hopes of the starfish position making him sweat a little less. He drinks so much cold water that he has to get up to use the bathroom twice. When he comes back to his room after the second time, he decides to sit on the windowsill for a while instead of going back to bed, legs dangling outside which he’s been told a thousand times not to do, but the way down into the grass behind the house isn’t long enough to scare him. 

Here, he can breathe. 

When he first moved into the house, he was far too young to be doing something as dangerous as even opening the window in his little room on the first floor with his own tiny hands, but rather than a danger, it meant safety to Garrett. His way out. He’d been moved from orphanage to foster family to orphanage to foster family too many times. He’d been asked to settle in only to be taken away with no warning, had been given countless different rules and then been yelled at for not remembering which ones applied where. He’d been too used to not belonging, to being misunderstood, overlooked and punished for mistakes he didn’t understand. 

It was the first window that had neither bars nor a lock impossible to open. Garrett had a way out. A couple of broken bones instead of a broken soul, possibly. Not ideal, but at least a choice. He was sure the day would come where this choice would become relevant, but it never did. Garrett hasn’t had a backpack ready for flight under his bed in years. 

The open window, the empty space beneath his dangling feet - they don’t mean the same to him anymore, but they’re still freedom. They’re still his greatest luxury. Garrett takes a deep breath and lets his gaze wander over the rooftops of Beacon Hills, over the hills and valleys beyond the town’s edge in the distance and the thick trees in the opposite direction. 

Something tugs at his heart gently before his eyes settle on a barn. It’s where the town’s last road leads away and into nothing. Nothing but a small house next to a big barn. Nothing but corn fields and paddocks and a dirty little lake surrounded by apple trees. No one ever takes this road unless they live there. No one ever follows it to its end where concrete turns into dry earth. Garrett used to, the previous summer, helping out by mucking out stables and fixing broken fences. He’d meant to earn some money while school was on break, but it all turned into something more the second his temporary employer, Mr. Walcott, introduced Garrett to his son Sean. 

Sean wasn’t an unfamiliar face to Garrett. They were in the same school, Sean only one year ahead of him, but seeing him was different as they stood there that day with the sun blinding them, knowing that they had a whole summer in their private little corner of Beacon Hills. 

Garrett remembers everything like it happened only seconds ago instead of an entire year. The way Sean’s eyes were sometimes more blue and sometimes more green, how the sun left brighter streaks in his dark blond hair as the weeks went on, Sean’s skin darkening while Garrett’s only turned red. Garrett has little trouble conjuring up images of broad shoulders and straining arm muscles. They both worked hard around Sean’s family’s little farm, but Sean’s defined muscles came from hours upon hours of gymnastics training. 

Garrett still dreams about it all at night and during the days. The thoughts attack him at random, showing him Sean in a pair of tight jeans, shirt stuffed in one of the back pockets, abs rippling beneath his skin as he laughs. Sometimes it’s Sean in swim trunks by the lake, hair dripping onto his chest. The fantasies are devastating but manageable when it’s just Sean in all his glory. Those that really get under Garrett’s skin are the ones that they’re in together. 

They’re partly memories and partly  _ what if _ s. They’re silly competitions to see who can hold their breath longer underwater and fistfuls of mud thrown at each other in the warm summer rain. They contain the scent of freshly cut hay and Garrett’s first ride on an actual horse, Sean sitting right behind him, one hand on Garrett’s hip and one hand reaching around to force his chin up. There was that one time Garrett cut his hand on a rusty nail and Sean disinfected and bandaged the wound, starting to tell terrible jokes when he realized the blood was making Garrett queasy. 

Working together seemed easy although Garrett had never been the biggest team player. Sean proved to be different than anyone else he knew. It seemed like they knew each other on a deeper level even as they were still in the process of telling each other about their lives. Sean had the right kind of humor, always knew when to be serious and when to be silly. They talked for hours on some days, on other days there was a not unpleasant silence between them as they got their tasks done. And sometimes, Garrett even found himself humming along to the current song on Sean’s lips. 

Just thinking about it for a minute is enough to make the little hairs on Garrett’s arms stand up. One year. They’ve gone for one year without talking although they’ve had countless opportunities at school. Besides that Garrett could have taken his bike out to ride down that last road out of town. Or walked. He could have called. Or texted. Or done anything at all to let Sean know his summer job wasn’t just a summer job. 

Garrett looks down at his bare feet and the ground beneath. Last summer, when the nights were too hot, Sean and he would wait until dark and then race each other from the horse stable to the middle of the lake. The last one to be fully underwater would lose. Garrett had lost enough times to not care about it. What he cared about was the shimmer in Sean’s eyes that appeared every time he realized he’d won. 

If only he could see it again. Garrett sighs deeply and buries his face in his palms, but it doesn’t stop his mind from reeling. He reaches inside his room, fishing for his phone, stares at Sean’s name in his contacts. 

What the hell happened? Why did Garrett freak out that first time he caught sight of Sean in the hallway at school after the summer holidays? He didn’t mean to turn around. He didn’t mean to walk away. He just didn’t know what else to do. 

Because the summer was over. Because they were at school instead of the barns. Because it wasn’t just the two of them and a couple of horses. There were so many eyes on him. Like it does sometimes, his brain shut down, his body went on autopilot, feet carrying into the most quiet direction, seeking safety so he could reboot and start thinking straight. 

He wanted to say sorry. He wanted to say hi. He wanted to ask how Sean had been. He wanted to make a joke just to see him smile, wanted to have a conversation about something,  _ anything.  _ He wanted to know something was still left from the summer they’d shared. 

But the next time they crossed paths in the hallway, it was Sean who averted his and then changed directions. Better than most people, Garrett knew how to run away, but he hadn’t quite figured out how to run  _ after _ something. His body was shaking with the need to take action, fists clenching and unclenching, feet restless, but he didn’t know what to do or how. Instead, he did nothing at all except staringt Sean’s back until it disappeared into the crowd.

Garrett knew it was his fault. But Sean wasn’t the first person he’d gotten along with for a while before things started to fade and then slowly disappear. No one other than Liam had ever stuck around. He didn’t mind, usually, but it stung when it was about Sean. 

He can’t just call in the middle of the night. Sean is probably fast asleep and even if not, what is Garrett going to say a whole year later? He opens a text message but how is he supposed to fit the enormity of his regret into just a bunch of words? 

There’s no point. 

The phone flies back inside and lands in the middle of Garrett’s bed. The thing about giving up is that sometimes it’s harder not to. Bracing his hands on the windowsill, Garrett slides down until his feet touch the house façade. He looks down. If he holds on to the window frame and stretches his body as far down as he can before letting go, the distance between his feet and the ground shouldn’t be that long. Although he isn’t entirely confident about landing comfortably, he’s pretty sure that he wouldn’t seriously injure himself. 

It’s crazy though, right? He isn’t actually going to jump out of the first floor window. He shouldn’t be wanting to, but Sean’s eyes and Sean’s smile keep coming back to him in flashes. He’s never going to be able to sleep. 

About a dozen times, Garrett’s brain goes from  _ hell yes, about time  _ to  _ god no, are you insane?  _ But then he pushes himself off of the windowsill without really thinking it through and the next second his dangling there. The thought of releasing his grip is a lot scarier than anticipated, but now he doesn’t have a choice anymore since there’s no way he can pull himself back up. It’s only a matter of time until he won’t be able to hold on anymore. 

Garrett closes his eyes, curses himself and drops down like a sack of potatoes. All of a sudden, his brain provides him with a list of all the flaws of his nightly vision. He left his phone inside. Didn’t think to bring a key. Neither is Garrett wearing shoes. Or pants, for that matter. And he thought he was stupid before. The good thing is, there’s no going back now. The only options are sleeping in the backyard or making use of all the time he’s got until morning. 

Quite a lot of internal debating and regrets are necessary before Garrett finally gets on his bike, trying not to think about how ridiculous he looks as he rides around town until he takes the last turn into Sean’s street. Heart beating in his throat, he rolls down the last bits of concrete until sand, dirt and stones scrunch beneath his tires. 

For one year, he’s been missing Sean, but Garrett realizes slowly that he’s been missing this place too. The smell in the air, the surroundings, even in the dark, the way nature is calm but never quite silent, it’s all so familiar that it almost shocks him. Leaving his bike behind, Garrett wanders around the premises. Somehow, the fact that he isn’t dressed matters less there. Nothing seems wrong with his feet getting dirty. 

For a minute, he stops at the chicken coop Sean and he painted together. The red color has become dull from rain, wind and sun. Even if it wasn’t dark, Garrett wouldn’t be able to tell by looking where they wrote their names before painting over them, but he remembers. Every way he looks, there’s a memory tied to Sean, but especially the little lake at the far end of the property. 

Garrett walks over there slowly. He’s always liked looking at the water. The ground turned soft around it. It seems like not a part of Beacon Hills, like a small kingdom of its own. 

“You’re not getting in?” 

A part of Garrett is taken by surprise by Sean’s voice, but a different part isn’t at all. Standing here, it only seems natural that Sean be there too. 

He doesn’t know what to say. There are too many things going through his mind at once. How good it feels to hear Sean talking to him after all this time. How much he likes it when his feet sink into the mud just a little. How the air smells just right. How much he’s missed all of it, how it’s his own fault, that he’s sorry. 

“Didn’t want your dad to catch me in your lake in the middle of the night,” he murmurs. They both know he’s just saying it to say  _ something. _ Because not saying anything has already ruined enough. 

“I see,” Sean replies, “you’d rather be caught standing  _ in front of  _ our lake in - are those your boxers? That makes more sense, of course.” The smile on his lips is audible in his words.

Garrett sighs. He’s almost glad he can’t see Sean’s face at the moment, but shame forces him to press his eyes closed on top of that. “I guess I’m not exactly good at making sense.”

It’s quiet for a long moment. Eventually, Garrett can hear Sean moving. Moving towards him, or maybe away. Nothing happens. Away it is, probably. Garrett stands still. What the hell was he thinking jumping out of the window to come here? Did some part of him believe it was a grand romantic gesture or something? All he can do now is wait until Sean is gone and it’s safe to take flight. Garrett begins counting in his head.  _ One. Two. Three. Four.  _

At five, he hears a big splash. At six, cold water hits him all over his front, wetting his shirt. He rubs it from his eyes and opens them, staring down at Sean’s head where it’s peeking out from the water in the middle of the lake. 

“I won,” Sean says, and everything is right about the sound of it, about the way his eyes lock with Garrett’s, about the curve of his lips, one corner of his mouth pulled up slightly higher than the other. 

“You always do,” Garrett says, wishing he knew what it feels like. 

Sean’s smile fades then, a little. It doesn’t go away, at least not from his lips. But his eyes. “Maybe not always.” But Garrett doesn’t know what to say to that and Sean knows that Garrett doesn’t and so he does his best to put the happy face back on. “So, are you joining me? Or did you just come here to give your feet a little mud bath?” 

Taking his shirt off in front of Sean has always made Garrett slightly self-conscious. In that moment more than ever he’s unsure of the way Sean feels about him, but he understands what is happening, which is Sean giving him a second chance. To take it or leave it. Do something or stay silent forever. No one else around. No eyes on him except Sean’s. 

Garrett might act stupid sometimes, but he can’t actually  _ be  _ stupid enough to let someone as great as Sean get away twice. He knows why he wasn’t able to sleep and he knows why sitting on the windowsill wasn’t enough this time, why he had to get out, to jump, to make use of his previously unused emergency exit. 

So he jumps again. He throws his shirt into the grass, takes one tiny step forward and jumps. This time, it doesn’t hurt. And he doesn’t land thinking about what a terrible idea it was. 

Once he’s resurfaced, from the inside of the lake, the world feels like a different place. Sean is waiting with a grin on his face, Garrett can’t help but grin back at him - it’s infectious. They both laugh, and splash water in each other’s face, swimming around in circles. They can still do this, Garrett thinks. Nothing is ruined for good if they can still do this. If this little kingdom of theirs still exists. 

Just to be sure, he tests it out. “I bet I can hold my breath longer than you,” he says although he can’t. Sean gives him a look that tells him Sean doubts his chances, but he joins the silly competition regardless. The second time they go underwater facing each other, Garrett reaches out and pokes Sean’s cheek to disturb him. Sean grabs him by the wrist and holds on to it even when they’re breathing air again. 

Garrett starts pretending like he wants to get free from Sean’s grip and Sean catches Garrett’s other arm as well, laughing as Garrett enjoys struggling in a way that lets them touch a couple of times. Eventually, when Garrett gets free, he retaliates by smearing a fistful of wet mud over Sean’s chest. Sean does the same, except he makes sure to er as much of Garrett’s skin as possible. 

“You have a little dirt there,” Garrett laughs, pointing at Sean. 

“Oh yeah? Where?” 

“Everywhere!” 

“You’re one to talk, dirty boy, look at that mess,” Sean teases, tapping Garrett’s mud-covered shoulder with the tip of his finger. “Let me wash that off of you.” 

He pulls Garrett closer although he already was within reaching distance. It’s a nice excuse to rub each other’s shoulders and chests underwater, but it’s also just an excuse, just a reason to keep touching after the water has washed everything away. 

Somehow, it goes from palms flat over each other’s racing hearts to Garrett’s forehead against Sean’s shoulder and then Sean’s hands at Garrett’s sides, careful at first, hesitant, only really holding him after a couple of seconds of Garrett not moving away. 

Without the sloshing around and the laughing, it’s just the noise of the night and the shuffling of the horses inside the stable and their breathing, but that kind of silence has never felt like it lacks anything between the two of them. Slowly, Garrett moves his arms around Sean. He half expects him to put an end to it all. Or to wake up and realize it has all been a dream. 

Instead, Sean simply asks, “What happened?” 

“I jumped out of my window,” Garrett says, although he knows that it’s not the answer to Sean’s question. 

“Why?” 

“Because I’ve missed you.” 

“I was here,” Sean says. 

Garrett swallows, hard. “I know.” 

“I still am here,” Sean adds then, a softer tone to his voice. 

“I’m here too, this time.” 

“Okay.”

Somehow, Garrett believes it, that it’s okay. 

“Okay.” 

“I feel like we should get out of the water now,” Sean says, making Garrett aware of the slight shaking of his body. 

“You’re probably right,” Garrett nods, reluctantly letting go of Sean and following him out of the lake. The air on his wet skin is freezing cold all of a sudden and he looks down at his boxers, then his shirt on the ground and the bike in the distance. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Sean tells him. God knows where he got two towels from so fast, but he’s wrapping one around Garrett’s shoulders and rubs his back through it. “You’re not leaving here without a shower and some fresh clothes. And some sleep, maybe? Only if you want.” 

If he wants? It only sounds like the most perfect idea ever. 

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” 

“Good,” Sean says, reaching for Garrett’s hand as they walk towards the house, linking their fingers together. After jumping out of the window, a bike-ride across town in boxer shorts, seeing Sean again and sort of clinging to him like a monkey for a while, the warmth of Sean’s palm against Garrett’s and the way their hands are tangled together is the most exciting thing that’s happened that night. So far, that is. 

“Hey, one more thing,” Sean says suddenly, stopping in his tracks and forcing Garrett to stop as well. “This one is also optional, but, um, I think I’d really like it. So if you want to, you could maybe kiss me.” 

Did Garrett just hear that right? 

“Only if you want to,” Sean whispers. Because he isn’t sure if Garrett wants to or not, which seems ridiculous to Garrett, who’s been dreaming up a million different versions of their first kiss between this very moment and the day they first met. But Sean doesn’t know, and it’s a shame. And Garrett can’t have that anymore. 

There are also a lot of things Garrett isn’t sure of, but whether or not he wants to kiss Sean? It’s not one of them. 

“I’d really like it too,” he whispers back, pulling Sean close by the hand he’s still holding, tilting his head up, trying not to give in to his impatience too quickly as Sean’s eyes drift from his eyes to his lips and back and then shut. 

Garrett puts his hand somewhere between Sean’s chest and his neck, closing his eyes when he realizes he won’t feel any steadier than this because he’s about to kiss Sean and neither his legs nor his heart are prepared for the moment. 

Their lips touch. Soft and gentle. It’s the nicest thing he’s ever felt. And then Sean shifts and they’re closer, and he’s held, and Sean’s arms become the warmest and safest place he’s ever been in. They part, smile, breathe, wait for their lips to reconnect on their own accord. Sean tilts his head just slightly and as simply as that, there’s a new  _ nicest thing,  _ and again when he cups Garrett’s cheek with one hand, and then when he parts his lips, and again, and again, and again. 

Eventually, Garrett follows Sean inside the house and in his bed where they keep kissing each other’s lips and cheeks and fingers and necks and then the lips again, exploring all the ways in which their bodies can be made to fit against each other. The sun comes up but Garrett has eyes for Sean only, and although he’s getting tired, he’s determined to spend every second until he falls asleep kissing. 

“I still don’t really understand the window thing,” Sean whispers in Garrett’s ear, “but I’m glad you jumped.” 

“Yeah,” Garrett nods, “me too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make me crazy-smile. Come talk to me on [tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/flyde)


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